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Chapter 19
019
Taylor of Class A was in a bad mood.
Today was the day of the grade evaluation.
He had to waste precious class time on a scuffle with some Class C student.
'Why do I have to waste my time on guys who can't even handle a sword.'
Ё nů ṁ.ӓ
This was all because of Instructor Cassian.
A man with no ability, who talked about useless things every class, a man who only unsettled people's minds.
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He couldn't understand why such a person was a swordsmanship instructor at the academy.
'He must have bribed the psycho chairman.'
A savior appeared who solved this injustice with even more money.
Avril Goldline.
W ӗ.b̊n о v̂e l̊ Е n̊ u ḿа
Not only did he update Akarind Academy's useless education system to the latest imperial capital style, but he also upgraded the level of the instructors.
Taylor liked the grading system from A to C the most.
'A class mixed with lowly people, it's the worst.'
Even now, the class members were of various statuses, but the average skill level was higher than before.
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These students were highly likely to achieve merit somewhere in the world and obtain at least a knight's title.
It was enough to build connections.
W е b̆n̂.оvé l Е n u m а̌
'And the support is amazing.'
Just last night, he drank a potion given to the Class A students and fell asleep.
It was a supplement that relaxed the body's muscles and improved concentration during sleep.
The next morning, not only did he feel refreshed even after sleeping less, but the muscle fatigue after training was also completely gone.
The efficiency of the training was different.
'So I'll show them the difference.'
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His Class A colleagues, who had come out to the training ground first, were warming up.
They all had similar expressions, as if to say, 'just you wait.'
When their eyes met, a confident smile was exchanged.
Soon, the Class C students began to pour in from one side of the training ground.
'How rustic.'
They were in awe of the Class A facilities.
Ѐ_ň û m̂а̄.і̆ d̆
A temperature-controlled magical device was installed on one side of the training ground for comfortable training, and a sewage system for washing was installed on the other.
High-quality wooden swords and towels made of microfiber wool were provided, and cabinets were also installed to store necessary training equipment.
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Above all, he was here.
"It seems everyone is here."
Avril Goldline.
Awe was mixed in the eyes of the students looking at him.
Ẇе̊ bn о v̇ е l̆ Е n̈ u̇ m̀a
A strong man who had defeated Sordian, a former member of the Imperial Knights, in a single blow.
And the heir to the Goldline Merchant Guild.
A perfect man with wealth, power, and everything, was their instructor.
Compared to that, over there.
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"You haven't forgotten the promise, have you?"
A weak, rustic, pretty-faced dandy of an instructor was standing there.
Ẃ еb ǹ ŏ_v e̊.l̈ Е̇ṅǔḿа
"Look at that. Their expressions have changed."
"The way they look at the instructor has softened. Did they realize their situation?"
"Well, birds of a feather flock together. Losers."
The Class A students giggled and whispered.
For some reason, a girl in the back he hadn't seen before had sharp, gleaming eyes, and her presence was dark and sharp.
"W-what's with her. Why is she looking at us like that."
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"W-who's scared? She's still just in Class C!"
The students tried to put on a brave face, but in other words, it meant they felt threatened enough to have to do so.
In that confrontation, the students of both sides split in half and lined up.
Instructor Freutche was in the middle.
"I will be the judge for today! I will provide a fair evaluation between Class A and Class C."
Fair? What's the need for that?
Е n̆ u̇.m̊ а̂. і̇d̈
Taylor snorted and sat down.
The first student from Class C was a small girl.
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She came out holding a wooden sword like a doll, and her nervous expression was evident.
"Who will you choose?"
"Anna."
The girl called Anna snorted and stood up at his nomination.
Еn̂ũ m̃ а́_. і̀ d
She seemed to find it ridiculous that he had chosen her.
"Anna! Crush her pride in one go!"
"Go easy on her! The others will get scared!"
"Play with her and then kill her!"
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The Class A students giggled and threw mocking cheers, while no cheers came from Class C.
There were only silent gazes.
E ǹù mа̄_.ïd
The two students stood in their respective places and aimed their swords at each other.
Anna, with a relaxed air.
And on the other side, the student who was terrified.
It seemed the result would be out soon.
"Now. Then, begin!"
Immediately after Freutche's declaration, Anna confidently swung her sword.
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Her bouncy, unique swordsmanship headed straight for the Class C girl.
Thwack!
It was immediately blocked.
"Huh?"
"Hmm?"
The two were surprised for different reasons.
W̃ ѐ b̂ ǹ о v e l Ёnûmа̀
'Was my condition bad?'
'Or was I just unlucky?'
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Thinking that, Anna swung her sword again.
This time, it was an attack with a little more care.
Thud.
This time, her attack was blocked even more easily than before.
Еń û_m ã .і̊d
No, it wasn't just blocked.
"Ugh?"
The opposing girl's sword instantly slid past her own and lightly touched her finger.
"Ah?!"
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At the sudden pain, the strength in her sword-wielding hand unconsciously gave out.
When she realized her mistake and looked up again.
Е n̆ ŭ ḿа̃. і̆ d
"Stop!"
A wooden sword had stopped in front of her eyes.
"Class C's Eleveth wins!"
It was a disappointingly quick defeat.
'...Huh?'
The students, including Taylor, blinked.
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Even after seeing it with their own eyes, it was hard to properly understand what they had just witnessed.
No, what just happened?
"Eek!"
Anna gritted her teeth and stood up, as if unable to accept it.
But there was nothing she could do.
Freutche and Avril.
Е̇ n úmа́
None of the teachers here gave her a glance.
No, just one person.
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Only Cassian was looking at her with a somehow pitiful expression.
That made her feel even worse.
"...!"
In the end, unable to hold back her tears, Anna ran out of the training ground.
Еṅ_ũm.а̇.i̇ d̊
"Next!"
The Class A students couldn't come to their senses.
A student who wielded their sword with great power.
A student who focused on a fast sword.
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And a student who was good at tricky variations.
Not a single student managed to land a single effective hit in the spars.
We b nо̂ v е̃ l̈ Е n ù m̌ ӓ
10 losses.
29 losses.
38 losses.
And 48 losses.
'W-what is this?'
It felt like he was dreaming.
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It was an event that couldn't have happened unless he was bewitched by magic.
48 out of 50 students had fought, and without a single exception, all 48 had lost.
If this wasn't a dream, then what was it?
'Even those guys have expressions of disbelief!'
The Class C students also had dazed expressions and didn't seem happy at all.
It was a look as if they were doubting if this was really happening.
Ě ńúm̂ а
That hurt his pride even more.
"Next! Uh... Yuria?"
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The one who came out at Freutche's call was a small girl.
She was half a head shorter than the others and was wearing a priestess's robe.
For some reason, her eyes didn't seem like those of a Class C student.
No, maybe they were the most fitting eyes for Class C.
Ѐn̂ŭmа́
Completely dead, as if she had given up on everything.
"Well, you're also in Class C... who will you choose?"
"Do I have to fight too? I came here as an exchange student to peacefully take classes in Class C."
"Well, the rules are the rules."
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At Freutche's question, Yuria hummed as if in thought for a moment.
Just then, Bridget strode up behind her and whispered something in her ear.
Ёnu ṁа̂ .і̀ď
Yuria nodded as if she understood and then opened her mouth.
"Taylor."
"Alright, Tayl—huh? Taylor? Really?"
Instructor Freutche seemed somehow flustered.
'What is it?'
Is something going wrong?
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Taylor tried to shake off the uneasy feeling and stood up.
'I have to change this atmosphere.'
With that resolve.
"Begin!"
As soon as the signal started, he immediately ran forward.
A quick and decisive battle.
W еb̈ n о v е̌ĺ E.n̈ u̇ m̈ а
Given the melee-inducing nature of his swordsmanship, if he hits and runs to induce a fight...
Smack!
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"Ah?"
His sword struck Yuria's head directly.
It was a fatal blow that could have easily taken a person's life.
A stream of dark red blood trickled from Yuria's head.
W̄ ēb̈ n̄ ӧvе̊ l̆ É ñ ŭ m ӑ
'I, I...?'
This was the first time he had inflicted such a fatal blow on an opponent.
Could it be that my first kill will be like this?
That thought filled his head.
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And Yuria's eyes shone eerily.
"?!"
Е̇n ūm а̃
His body, frozen by the sudden situation, reacted late.
Yuria's low-crouched gaze quickly closed in on his face.
His vision was filled with Yuria's blood-soaked face, especially her eyes and nose covered in bright red blood.
"Ugh!?"
He stumbled back in shock, and as if waiting, Yuria's palm covered his eyes.
Only then did Taylor realize that Yuria had come out empty-handed.
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Craaaash!
A monstrous strength that came from nowhere slammed his head into the ground.
He couldn't even breathe from the terrible pain that started in his head, and his mind went blank.
His vision turned black, and just as it seemed the Grim Reaper had come to take everything from him.
The pain suddenly disappeared.
'?'
Е n_ū ma_.іd
He was definitely slammed into the ground.
But how could there be no pain?
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At that moment, the hand that had been covering his eyes slowly moved away, and the surrounding scenery came into view.
Yuria was being dragged away by Avril, who had grabbed her by the scruff of her neck.
"Taylor loses!"
"Zombie. If you punch a student like that, the student will die."
Ёn̆um̈ ӑ. і̃ d
"I healed him too."
"We've decided to call that torture."
Suddenly, a hand was extended into his line of sight.
"Are you okay?"
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Cassian had come over and was holding out his hand.
"D-damn it!"
En ū ṁ а̄.і́d
Taylor slapped his hand away with a thud and stood up.
He couldn't even grasp what had just happened.
From the madwoman who had charged without flinching even though his attack had clearly landed, to the pity from someone like Cassian.
Taylor also gritted his teeth in frustration and moved towards the outside of the training ground.
And Bridget, who was watching Taylor's back, spat on the ground and stepped forward.
49 out of 50 Class C students had won.
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'Easy.'
He knew because he had stayed behind every night and watched Cassian and Freutche's training.
Those so-called Class A students were much weaker than Cassian had judged.
No matter how many elixirs they drank and how good their lessons were.
'You don't have a madman like Instructor Cassian.'
What on earth did that instructor think of students, and swordsmanship?
W̊е̃ b̄n̈о v.е̊l̃ Е̂n̊ u̇m̀ ӑ
A hollow laugh escaped him.
'If I win, it'll be a complete victory, but.'
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That day.
When he saw the unbelievable swordsmanship succeed right before his eyes, he decided.
In this grade evaluation, he wanted to compete with that guy purely with swordsmanship.
"Pan!"
Ẅ ē b n оvе l̂ Еn̂ú m a
At his shout, Pan looked at him.
His narrowed shoulders, his gaze that couldn't meet his and was cast down diagonally. A frightened expression.
But he wasn't fooled.
"Come out!"
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No one in Class C had challenged Pan to a spar.
It was partly because they had practiced opponents, but also because everyone now knew.
Е̃n̄ u̇ mа̌ . і̊.d
After training together for a week, it was impossible not to know.
That Pan, who had been swinging his sword in a corner of the training ground by himself, was actually a monster with immense talent for swordsmanship.
It's the same now.
Pan had a frightened expression, but he came forward with his sword without a single hesitation.
His hand was trembling, but it was probably not from fear, but from the tension and excitement before a battle.
His own hand was trembling just the same.
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"Are you ready?"
At Freutche's question, the two faced each other and nodded.
They both took their stances and their swords met.
Class A, drunk on their own skills, and Class C, who had prepared everything.
They were the first two to break away from that structure today.
Class A, who had trained harder than anyone, and Class C, who was unprepared for anything.
Е̄nu m̊ а . і ď
Pan and Bridget.
"Then begin!"
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With the signal, the two clashed.
'Steps first!'
Bridget, who had taken the basic stance of the Vürhelm swordsmanship, immediately thrust his sword as if to sweep the floor.
Pan jumped forward, crossing his feet as if walking on air.
Ŵ е̃ b̆n о̆ v̈еl Е nů m̌_a
Whoosh!
Unlike a complete jump into the air, the crossed steps made his follow-up movements faster.
A straight horizontal slash, in time with the broken rhythm, aimed for Bridget's head.
Clang!
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Bridget responded by forcefully retracting his sword.
Perhaps due to his strength, Pan's colliding sword was deflected.
Е ṅu mа̇
Bridget used the retracting force as rotational power and swung his sword upwards.
The sword tip that had been lowered drew an arc and soared up strongly.
"Hup!"
Pan's feet moved in a complex manner.
He twisted his entire body, rotating as if to fall, and deflected the sword.
With a thud, the foot planted behind Pan's body became an axis, and his entire body rotated counter-clockwise.
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The empty space before Bridget's sword could be retracted.
Pan's sword, becoming one with his body, flew in a semi-circle into that space.
"Hyaaaaah!"
Bridget, still in his upward slash stance, reversed his grip and slammed his sword down towards the ground.
Pan's sword collided at almost the same time as the wooden sword embedded itself in the training ground floor.
Crack!
W̌ е b̄ n̆о̃ vе l Е_n u̇m а̂
The attack was so strong that a cracking sound came from both wooden swords.
Their eyes met.
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Without anyone having to say anything, they retracted their swords.
No one retreated.
"Hyaah!"
Bridget pushed Pan back with great strength.
Wе̇ bn ō v̊ е̌l Ēn̊u̇m а
"Ugh!"
Pan precariously deflected the sword each time and took a step.
'The match is decided.'
Watching their spar, Cassian could see their intentions.
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Since they were his students, it was impossible not to know.
He could see the result.
Ē n ü m ā . і̀d̆
'Bridget first.'
Bridget, who had dodged Pan's sword, took his stance.
It was the swordsmanship of the Vürhelm family that he had been engrossed in for days.
He planted his foot, rotated his body, and then a thrust that shot up from below like an arrow.
Pan deflected the sword strike that swept the floor and soared into the air by tilting his sword diagonally.
Pan takes a step into that empty space.
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'No.'
Bridget lowered his sword to block the attack in accordance with that step.
But a sword was already at his neck.
In the first place, Pan hadn't blocked or dodged the attack.
He had hidden an attack within that deflection itself and then boldly threw his body forward before the attack was even fully deflected.
"Ah."
Ẅ е.b̄_n̈о̄v еl Е́ n u m а
Bridget, who had realized the flow of all the attacks too late, opened his mouth.
"...Steps."
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"Pan wins!"
The two swords are slowly lowered.
Bridget stared blankly into the air.
The clouds flowing leisurely were reflected in his pupils.
Еn u̇ m̀а̊
Bridget, who had been staring at the sky for a while, lowered his head.
Until then, Pan had been waiting, looking at him.
Still a timid and weak appearance.
But unlike before, his eyes were staring straight at him.
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"Congratulations."
Why was it?
Eǹ uma
His heart wasn't so uncomfortable in congratulating him.
'Maybe it's because being in Class C isn't so bad.'
On the contrary, he felt refreshed.
Because it felt like he had properly warmed up and fought for the first time in a while.
Today, never mind training, he thought he would go to the dorm and just relax.
"Then with this, we conclude the grade evaluation..."
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He was about to return to his seat with that thought.
"No."
Pan interrupted Freutche.
"I still have my nomination left."
"...? You're in Class A, so what nomination are you talking about?"
Pan slowly turned his gaze.
W̆ e b̂n̈оv̄ ẽ l̈ Еn ŭḿа̀
At the end of his gaze stood Avril.
"Instructor Avril. Please call Sordian. I will spar with that instructor."
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